


The Fated Meadow

by halcyonhowl (foxmoon)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-typical swearing, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Hurloane, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Minor Sloane/Hurley, Mutual Pining, Only One Bed, Romance, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Time Shenanigans, blupjeans wedding, just a different twist, lots of romantic smooches, romantic sex, still faerun still fantasy, the yearning!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxmoon/pseuds/halcyonhowl
Summary: Taako and Kravitz are unlikely soulmates that defy the logic of time and space to be together.
Relationships: Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompted soul mate au + first kiss. Thank you!

Kravitz shoves his hands in his coat pockets and presses through the howling wind as it whips down the Neverwinter streets. His breath forms clouds of ice crystals that get caught up in the swirling snow. Ice-heavy Candlenights decorations threaten to rip from street lamps and awnings with each gust. The sidewalks are unsurprisingly empty at this hour, and he’s definitely not the smartest to be out in an impending blizzard, but it will be worth it as long as nothing’s changed. As many times as he’s done this, that little worry will never go away.  _ Please be there. _

He looks up to the street signs to get his bearings, and then scans the row of shops. There’s the corner grocer, a pub, and a tailor’s shop on one side, and the bakery, a pharmacy, and the old Fern Dancer Tavern on the other. 

He heads in the direction of the Fern Dancer, and–there, nestled between the tavern and the pharmacy is a small alley that wasn’t there moments before. He smiles. Warmth fills his chest and spreads to wrap around his cold bones. A golden glow spills out onto the frozen concrete from lamplight somewhere within. He cuts across the street, careful for the iced over puddles, and ducks into the alley. Inside, it’s quiet and still. The wind whistles across the old stone walls of the buildings outside, and he can feel smaller eddies of cold air leak past the barrier, rustling his long wool coat. He feels the object in his pocket one last time, and walks forward, toward the end of the corridor.

⁂

Taako shops late one cool summer evening in the Neverwinter market district for rare ingredients. Usually he prefers to work with the original recipe elements before he starts experimenting with transmutation. He needs to know how they taste and feel and smell as they are, because that makes the magic all the more real. There’s a chemistry to it, plucking free the minute bonds that form one thing and knitting them back into another, that lends to the authenticity he’s renowned for in his creations. He has just finished up in a small grocer and heads down the street when he finds an alley that he swore wasn’t there before. 

Curious, he peers down the narrow path between ancient buildings. He’s not sure what he expects to find, but it’s not unusual to stumble across hidden places in a city as old as this one. However, what’s there is, well, it defies reason. The cobblestones that pave the way down the alley are dusted with a fine layer of snow.  _ Snow. _ In the middle of dry summer heat. Taako rubs the back of his neck, feeling the sweat sticking to his hair, and arches a brow at this juxtaposition. Normally this is where he’d turn around and leave and pretend he never saw anything. Self-preservation instincts attempt to kick in, but… something draws him closer. Something that tugs at the center of his chest. The bag of herb jars and vegetables and cured meats is rather heavy, and the snow does imply it’d be a cool place to chill for a bit. So he lets his desire for repose lead him into the alley.

Inside, it’s frigid, which doesn’t surprise him on account of the snow. He’s thankful for his penchant for wearing layers nevertheless, though the fabrics are not suitable for winter. A golden halo of light falls across his path, and ice gleams on the cobblestones. He’s careful where he steps so he doesn’t slip on ice. Definitely wouldn’t want to break his ass in… wherever the fuck he is. Not to mention, what lies beyond the alley is much too strange to warrant a lack of caution.

A small woodland-style cottage with a snow-heavy roof sits before him. The windows are frosted over, but there’s an inviting glow from within. A sign hangs over the door reads:  _ The Fated Meadow Bed and Breakfast. _ Taako looks back over his shoulder and observes as people pass by the alley, seemingly unaware it even exists. Music and chatter from within draws his attention back to the cottage. He stands there while curiosity and trepidation have a little duel in his brain. But there’s also that longing pull in his chest, and that’s the one that wins out.

He approaches the door and opens it cautiously. Then he’s… somewhere else. Somewhere without a door or windows. Somewhere outside. There’s a meadow surrounded by tall snow-covered trees, which makes little sense considering he’s in the middle of a large city. Well. He  _ was _ . The sky overhead is dark and filled with so many stars he feels he could fall up into them. At the center of the meadow is a festival where people are gathered—laughing, sharing conversation, dancing. Some pairs have snuck away together to take advantage of what privacy the trees can afford. They lean close with hands clasped, soft and intimate. Snow blankets the perimeter, but the center is green and dry. Paper lanterns dangle overhead, strung from twine that stretches from one side to the other. It’s charming, but he wonders if he slipped and hit his head after all.

Taako adjusts his grocery tote to keep the strap from digging into his shoulder. A levitate spell would do well right about now, but he needs to keep his reserves available for whatever might be going on here. He extends his sense of the arcane, hoping to gather some understanding, but no clarity comes. There’s no skyline beyond the trees, and behind him, the cottage sits at some distance down a dark forest path. It’s as though he’s entered another world entirely, which is not a thing he’s unfamiliar with, but typically there’s a spaceship or his own spellwork involved.

There’s a line of roughhewn wooden tables along one side of the clearing where some folks sit together with bowls of food from the vendors nearby. Among them sits a man with a fancy black coat over a fancy black suit in an unfamiliar style. He’s alone at a table, and has a deck of cards spread out before him. A lantern hangs overhead, capturing him in a faint blue light. There’s that peculiar tug again. A rolling sensation behind his ribs. It’s like a strong sense of relief that he’s found something he lost long ago. Taako presses his hand to his chest and feels his heart pound. He approaches the card-playing man, but is too overcome with the sheer oddness of the situation to speak.

The man looks up after turning over a card from the pile. 

Taako wiggles his fingers in greeting. “Um, hi. Well met.”

“Oh.” He shifts back in his seat ever so slightly, surprised. “Hello. You see me?”

“Um, yeah dude. I see a lot of people here.” Taako glances around. “Should I not see you?”

“Finally...I mean, I’ve been—,” he rises to his feet and smiles. “I’ve been waiting for you. I think? You’re the first person to see me since I started coming here.”

Taako eyes him suspiciously.. “Okay…weird.” 

“It’s a relief,” he says a little defensively, and looks down. He flips another card. “Dammit. Lost again.”

Taako peers at the cards. Solitaire. “Maybe if you talked to them they’d say hello.” 

“I’ve tried, trust me. They don’t see me. Go ahead and have a go at it to see what happens.”

Taako steps toward someone, and as he does so, a couple walks by and nearly bumps into him, except their shoulder passes right through and they seem to have not noticed at all. He stares after them, unnerved, because they’re also hard to focus on up close. Like he can’t look directly at them, though he knows they’re there. 

“Okay.” He frowns. “Okay. Have I died? Are you here to take me to the other side?” 

The man smiles a little bemusedly. “No, at least I don’t think so. I’m Kravitz, by the way. Care to sit?” He gestures to the chair across from himself.

“Um. Sure.” He sits slowly across from him and sets the tote down by his feet. “I’m Taako. Hey, is this a dream?”

“Nice to meet you, Taako. And I don’t think so, unless we’re sharing it.” Kravitz reshuffles the deck and sets up another game. He flips over a card and moves it to one of the rows. 

Taako isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he angles for something a bit less esoteric. “So you come here often, then? It’s, um, nice. A bit cold. Not too sure what they’re celebrating.”

“This is my third time. Found it by accident one day, and just felt like I was meant to be here. Took me a while to find it again, but I eventually did.”

“Yeah, sort of the same. I was walking down a street I’ve literally walked down a billion times before and—okay, I can’t—” Taako pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did you mean by you’ve been waiting for me?”

“I mean, well. I felt like I was meant to be here for  _ someone _ . Everyone else here has… someone. I started to feel a bit distressed by it if I’m being honest.” Kravitz draws a slow inhale and a little line forms between his brows. “Then you came right up to me, and you see me, so I assume it’s you. Could be wrong.”

Taako’s heart thumps. He considers bringing up that pulling sensation, but it’s just too weird. “Eight of hearts.”

“Oh—didn’t even notice that one. Thanks.”

He’s handsome, Taako decides after a lingering gaze. It’s not something he tends to focuses on overmuch. It’s not very important to him, all things considered. But this guy… he’s good looking in a way that has Taako distracted. The rest of the festival sort of melts away, and all he cares to pay attention to is his nice smile, those warm, brown eyes, and the line of his neck as it disappears below the collar of his coat. His skin looks soft to the touch, and his voice makes his ASMR go wild. He tries not to read into all the signs, but they’re stacking up one after the other.

“You were the only one sitting here by yourself,” Taako says softly.

Kravitz meets his gaze and smiles. “Know how to play rummy?”

“Nope,” a small lie, but one with good intentions. The way someone teaches says a lot about them. “Show me?”

Kravitz deals the cards, and they play a few rounds, before they lose track of the game and find themselves in pleasant conversation. Hours bleed together, and eventually the activity surrounding them begins to wind down. The stars overhead fade one by one as daubs of orange and pink spread upward from the east. The whole night has passed before Taako realises he needs to get home. He was meant to make dinner for his sister and the others. He exchanges a reluctant goodbye with Kravitz, shoulders his bag, and heads down that narrow forest path to the cottage.

When Taako leaves the alley, he looks back to find all of it gone. The meadow, the strings of paper lanterns, the couples dancing. The stones that make the tavern exterior meet seamlessly with the stones that make the tannery. The fresh smell of the wilderness and bonfire smoke is swiftly replaced with that of horses,various food cart aromas, and general city grime. The heat of summer envelopes him, and his tote of food feels heavy on his shoulder. Though he’s certain hours have passed, it still appears to be early evening. The streets are crowded with women in off-shoulder dresses, and men in linen tunics. His mind is somewhat foggy, but his objective returns. He hasn’t missed dinner, so he heads home.

⁂

In the weeks that follow, Taako makes excuses to head into Neverwinter to pick up this and that. Every time, he’s disappointed. There’s no path between the tavern and tannery that leads to a cottage that leads to an enchanted meadow. There’s not even a draft of cold air or a chill up his spine. He  _ knows _ he was there. He’s not one to just make this kind of shit up. Even so, he tells no one. It’s nothing they need to be concerned about.

When the broadleaf trees begin to turn colors with the season, Lup is the first to confront him with her suspicions. She thinks he has a secret boyfriend, and that’s a bit much, though there is…  _ something. _ She stands beside him, back against the counter, as he cooks.

“Listen, if you’re seeing someone you’re not pulled to, I’m not gonna judge,” she says. “We’ve all done it. You don’t have to hide it from me. I’m your sister, babe.”

Of course she’d bring up the soulmate pull. Taako hasn’t felt it before to know for sure, but what else could it be? Of all the bonds people weave between each other themselves, there’s one that is woven for them when their souls are first formed. Time passes, lives are lived, and gradually Istus pulls on this bond to bring the two together when it needs to happen, and no sooner. The soulmate bond is unavoidable, though some have tried. It’s also not inherently romantic, yet it has indeed been romanticized over the centuries. Taako makes a face. 

Lup leans in, softening her voice so the others can’t hear. “You’re the only one who knows I was seeing someone when I felt pulled to Barry.”

Taako stops stirring the sauce and sighs. “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey,” she affectionately bumps his shoulder with hers. “Our bond’s got nothing on some dumb soulmate bond. We don’t need that, right? Soulbonds are strong stuff, but we have something stronger.”

She doesn’t have to define it further. He knows. He holds a spoon out to her. “Here, taste this.”

“Needs rosemary,” she says, tasting. “Good though.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.” He pinches a bit of dried rosemary from the pile and sprinkles it into the sauce. She doesn’t believe him, if the arch of her eyebrow and the purse of her lips is any indication. “It’s only been once,” he says.

“Aha! I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Lup gasps, puts her hand over her heart, and seems to perk up just moments before Barry enters the front door. They’re soon pulling each other into an enthusiastic embrace. 

Taako watches the steam rise from the pot as he ignores them. He thinks of Kravitz instead, and how it makes little sense if they were destined to have this goddess-issued bond, why would he appear in some weird alleyway mirage? Why would he never see him again? That can’t be what this is. It’s something else. He’s not sure yet, but he’s determined to find out.

⁂

The next time Taako finds the alley, it’s the autumnal equinox. He’s very clear on that. He’s been paying attention to such details ever since the first time. There are no soft drifts of snow like there were before, but there’s the distinct smell of wildflowers and rain. The seasons are clearly out of sync, at least he can recognize that pattern. He enters the alley, bursts through the cottage door, and briskly walks toward the meadow entrance. Everything seems the same as before, but now there’s a stone temple with lit sconces at the far end. 

Taako walks through the crowd, searches the clusters of friends in excitable conversation, avoids the couples making out in the grass. And there by a little stream of clear water that flows past the new temple, he finds Kravitz. His face is in profile, and the flickering light behind him casts sharp contrasting shadows on his form.

Taako’s heart swells in his chest at the sight of him. The way his full lips are slightly parted, his brown skin edged in gold from the firelight, the lashes angled downward with his gaze. Taako’s stomach rolls over itself in eager apprehension, and it’s like nothing he’s felt before. The pull is there, like it was the last time, and the intensity of it holds him in place. He takes a shaky breath. Kravitz lifts his hand and rests it on his chest the way Lup has done when Barry is near.

Taako shakes his head and grits his teeth. What the  _ fuck _ is happening to him? He wrings his hands, fidgets with his clothes, to keep his hands still. It’s not love at first sight or some shit like that. The soulbond doesn’t work that way, he doesn’t think (he’s not so sure). Taako _ is  _ sure he doesn’t just suddenly  _ love _ this Kravitz, but he does feel the inevitability of it unfolding in that direction. Kravitz is a fishing lure, a candle flame, a godsamn planet, and Taako is irrevocably caught in orbit. 

“ _ Fuck _ me,” he groans, exaspirated with himself, and rushes over to Kravitz before they can have some awkward ‘ _ eyes meet across the distance _ ’ moment. 

“Taako!” Kravitz says, and Taako understands what it means when people say their eyes light up.

“Hey!” Taako smiles. “It’s the equinox, isn’t it? That’s when it opens?” 

“And the solstice, yes. It’s—it’s so good to see you, Taako.”

“But, but why? Why here? What is this place?”

“I don’t know.” He looks over to the temple as if it might provide an answer. “Want to explore a bit?”

Taako grins. “Hell yeah!”

The stream flows past the temple, and so they head there first. Inside is hazy with incense, and candles flicker on the altar. Gauzy swaths of fabric drape from ceiling to floor. Petals blow in through the columns. There’s a spinning wheel on the dais that weaves a glimmering tapestry by itself, and if he squints, Taako can see gossamer threads connecting himself and all the others here to the loom. 

“You familiar with Istus?” Taako asks.

Kravitz is about to respond when two women approach them. 

“Welcome, friends!” The taller one says. 

The other holds out a tray of some kind of pastry. “Would you like one?”

“No thanks,” Taako says. They do look delicious, but he’s not an idiot. He’s not about to eat some strange food from fuckin’ hallucination meadow.

Kravitz also declines. When the women wander off, he watches them for a moment. “They saw us.”

“Yeah. Huh.”

“Come with me.”

Taako looks at him, then down to his chest where he saw the thread emerge. It’s still there, but he can only really see it when the incense smoke drifts their way. “Wait. So, you’ve been here more than I have, right? Do you trust it?”

Kravitz tilts his head as he considers the question. “I’m not sure yet. The one thing I haven’t done is see how far I can walk away from the meadow. Didn’t want to do it alone, but now you’re here.”

Taako laughs, not hiding a bit of incredulity. “Listen, I want to go with you, but I don’t trust one fucking thing about this place, and since you’re here I kinda gotta include you in that. Just for a little while longer.”

“I, um, I understand. It’s unsettling here, but I’m not going to hurt you, Taako.” He says it softly, earnestly, and Taako feels a little guilty. 

“It’s nothing personal, my man. We can get around to that eventually. Maybe we can walk around the meadow and talk? See where the evening takes us?”

Kravitz smiles. “I’d like that.”

As they walk, Taako learns that Kravitz likes wine and lives alone. He plays several instruments, but prefers the cello. He reads when he’s not practicing for a performance. And he loves playing all manner of games. Board games, card games, murder mystery dinner games. He can’t cook to save his life, and he once rescued an injured raven that now hangs around his apartment balcony. 

“I call her Trinket. She can’t fly far anymore, but she brings me lost shiny things. She loves blueberries,” he explains. 

“She has good taste.” 

Kravitz looks down with a shy smile that plucks quiet chords in his heart.

Taako also learns that he likes Kravitz very much. When morning comes and it’s time to part ways, Taako takes his hand. It’s cold to the touch, and he gasps. So does Kravitz.

“Your hand’s so warm — ” “Oh boy howdy, that’s a clammy one — ” they say in unison.

After a nervous chuckle, Kravitz takes his hands again. “I’ll see you in a few months.”

“Tell Trinket I said hello.”

Kravitz leans in and kisses his forehead, then they part ways.

⁂

A few days pass before Angus stops by Taako’s office at his Amazing School of Magic. He’s asking about something else, but Taako closes the door, and draws him in close.

“Listen, Angus,” he says. “You’re good at solving mysteries and shit like that, right?”

Angus beams hearing this. “Yes, sir, it’s what I love to do more than anything. Is there something I can help you with?”

Taako ponders how to bring this up and steeples his fingers. “You see, I think I found some kind of… anomalous portal to another dimension. Ever heard of anything like that popping up in Neverwinter? A little park that wasn’t there the day before? You know the trope. We’re talking Brigadoon, faerie ring type shit. Or perhaps that one with the winter wonderland in a wardrobe rings a bell? Bit of a mix between the two ideas.”

Angus looks off to the side as he thinks this over. “Um, I know the phenomenon you speak of, sir, but I’ll have to do some research. Nothing’s coming to me from memory, but I will go find out for you!”

“Excellent, thank you, pumpkin.”

His eyes get huge and deep, puppy brown, and his whole body practically lifts up with his smile. “Oh, sir, that’s—”

“Yeah, yeah, get to it.” Taako cringes at how much this kid activates what little parental instincts he has within himself. 

That night, Angus finds Taako and places a couple of books on his desk. One is old, a copy of something written from a previous age. Angus has marked a few relevant pages for him. It’s about Istus, and her threads of fate. Sometimes, she has to tie off threads in strange ways in order to make overall destiny flow more smoothly. Therefore, some people are bound together, but they live in different time periods. Not always is this bond about romantic love, but somehow they need to be brought together. The bonds they forge are influential not only to each other, but to the myriad of bonds they have with others. For these special people, she has created a few pocket dimensions throughout Faerun where they can meet and form their bonds. The dimensions are only able to open on certain traditionally magical times of the year, which makes it very limited, but if a bond is strong enough, the pair will find each other. 

The other book Angus has given him is a book about strange sightings in and around Neverwinter. He has marked a few mysteriously appearing shops, peddlers, carriages, and so forth. None of them are similar to what Taako has found.

“May I ask, sir, did you go into the portal you found?” Angus asks after Taako thumps the book closed.

“Maybe.”

“Did you find someone there?”

Taako adjusts things on his desk while he thinks of how to answer. It’s no use playing coy with Angus, he can figure out anything. “You know what, Agnes? I think your grandpa told you it’s rude to ask too many questions. And if he didn’t, it’s Taako’s rule number one.“


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: alcohol, canon-typical swearing, sexual themes/innuendo. I'm bumping up the rating for future adult situations.
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long! This has expanded a bit, so there will be one more chapter after this. Thank you so much for reading and for your nice reviews. :)

‘Neverwinter’ is often goofed as a misnomer. It’s definitely winter sometimes—today specifically, and it’s fucking _cold._ Taako heads there early, before anyone has a right to be awake. Before his sister could tease him any further than she has already. It’s not because he’s desperate. It’s _not_. It’s to determine just how early the passage opens on the solstice. The first time he found it, it was already evening and he didn’t spend much time there as he would have liked. The second time, he arrived several hours earlier, well before the astronomical solstice, and it was still open. So, it’s just to understand more about the phenomenon, that’s all. He wants to optimize the time there. It’s efficient. Nothing overeager about it. 

The taxi carriage pulls to the curb. He shoulders a canvas bag as he steps down to the street. A chilling gust of wind threatens to blow the hat off his head. He holds the wide brim and tucks his chin into the large scarf draped around his neck. If his observation about the seasonal pattern holds, it should be midsummer in the meadow. Under his thick winter robes, he’s dressed in a sheer-sleeved, long linen tunic cinched at the waist with a swirly-patterned, wide sash. Rather than bring multiple pairs of shoes for the shift in weather, he went with ankle boots, which do little to help thin turquoise leggings keep his legs warm against the frigid air biting at his calves.

The icy storm that skimmed Neverwinter last week has mostly melted away save for a few dirty slush mounds. He teeters around one of them, and heads to where the passage should be, but it has yet to open. And so he waits.

The sky is still dark with a few gleaming stars. A newsboy heads toward one of the Neverwinter distributors. The baker arrives shortly after to open her shop. Her breath forms white clouds in the frozen air as she fidgets with the ornery shop door. A stray cat darts down an alley and yowls. Taako waits with a bored sigh and a little shuffle to keep himself warm.

Dark blue sky overhead gradually lightens as the sun emerges, but doesn’t bring much in the way of heat. His nose feels like it might freeze off. The tips of his ears are on the verge of collecting icicles when finally, finally the alley appears. Not that he saw it happen. He looked away for a moment, and looked back to find it there before him. A smile blooms, spontaneous, and he steps across the threshold. It’s already pleasantly warm.

Once through the cottage façade, Taako sets down the colorful canvas bag and exchanges his scarf and cloak for the bundle of food inside. Then he takes a moment to smooth out his clothes. It’s a little cool at this early hour, and he wonders if he should’ve brought a shawl. As he’s kneeling to pick up the food bundle, his ears twitch to the light scuff of footsteps on the path. 

A halfling woman in a monk’s gi approaches from the cottage. 

“Hullo.” Taako wiggles his fingers in greeting. 

“Morning!” She spots his bundle. “Smuggling in food, I see.”

“No, it’s my baby and she’s sleeping, so.” Sometimes he’s even baffled by his own lies.

“Interesting....” She peers at it skeptically and she has every right to, it’s definitely not the shape of a baby. “Don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you newly bonded?” A Rockport Militia insignia gleams from where it’s pinned to her gi.

“ _Woof._ Right off the personal questions, huh? Are you the meadow police? Let’s just say I’m here for a little R&R. The view’s nice too.”

Her lips twist with an amused smile. “Oh, it’s like that huh? And no, no… I’m off duty here. Just thought you might like some questions answered if you’re new. Anyway, see you around.” She turns to continue on into the meadow. 

“Wait. Shit.” He follows after her. With his longer strides, he quickly catches up as she pauses at the meadow’s edge.

Right away Taako notices a few additional structures. The clearing looks a bit larger, as well. There’s a tavern with inn rooms, and a nice little flower garden blooms beside the stream. A few shops form a row on the end opposite the temple. The temple itself looks much the same, except it’s decorated with flower garlands, and a maypole stands in a grassy area to the side. A few vendors are wheeling out their food carts to the cluster of tables where he had met Kravitz the first night. No cafe, though.

“Yes, _fine,_ I’m kinda new at this,” Taako grouses. “I have... questions.”

She maintains a casual, knowing smile. “All right, hit me.”

“Okay. So, at first it was just a shitty fairytale rest stop in the middle of fucking nowhere and nobody could see me except him. Then there was a temple with a stream, and that was nice, but still nothing that gets me super jazzed for future visits. Will there be better places to chill at some point, like, where’s the spa? The restaurants? The cultural arts district? Can I fish in the pond? What happens if I take something out? What makes it change every time?”

“Hold on, shit. Let me answer one thing at a time. I’m Hurley, by the way.”

“Taako,” he drawls. “From–” he eyes her badge. “Nevermind. Go on.”

She looks up at him quizzically. “Sounds familiar… anyway, so once you meet your bondmate, people start seeing you. Like, you’re more substantial here, I guess? That’s the first layer. Then it’s just filling in details. You’ll see more and more every time you come. Like, there’s probably still more I can’t see, but, yeah, it’s pretty wild. It’s like layers that build over time. Think of it as like you spending time together makes the loom in the temple work, and your own little tapestry is made. No, you can’t take anything out that’s from here. I have no idea _why_ it’s like this, you’ll have to take that up with Lady Istus.”

“Huh. But is it always just one day? What’s the fucking point of that?” 

“Sunrise to sunrise on the day the seasons change. Four days a year. Never more than that.”

Taako frowns slightly. “Bullshit if you ask me,” he says quietly. How is anyone supposed to build a meaningful relationship like this?

Hurley draws in a deep breath and exhales, long and slow before answering. “Yeah. Lucky us. Hey, it’s good to meet you. I gotta head off. Hope I see you around.”

“Yeah, same. And thanks.”

“You bet.” With a small wave, she sets off in the direction of the tavern.

Taako looks down at the bundle in his arms. He can’t help but hate this a little bit. Or maybe a lot, time will tell. Istus didn’t think to ask him if he wanted to be a thread caught in her matchmaking loom. This is his life, not some fucking Fantasy Hallmark scroll. 

The sky lightens, clouds drift overhead. Several more people file into the meadow. There’s hugging and excited greetings, exclamations of how much partners and friends missed each other. Then there’s Kravitz. Taako feels him before he sees him. Feels it the way his heart clenches in his chest like a fist, and his whole body awakens with longing that turns him reflexively in his direction.

Kravitz rolls up his shirtsleeves as he heads up the path. Taako stuffs the bundle of food back in the canvas bag and reaches for a hug a bit prematurely. Kravitz’s smile softens, and he makes short work of the distance between them. In no time, Taako is pulled against Kravitz’s chest. And it’s not just a hug. Kravitz _holds_ him. It lingers for several deep breaths and all Taako can think is how firm and gorgeous and wonderful it is. Something begins to unspool in him, something that’s been knotted tightly for so long. Before it can spread out too far, it’s chased off by a regrettably familiar edge of dread. He withdraws from the embrace with a gentle deftness that he hopes doesn’t alarm Kravitz.

“Oh, hey. I brought something for us to share.” Taako grins like nothing’s wrong (because nothing’s wrong) as he pulls the bundle from the bag again. “Hope you like ridiculously fancy pastries. I was in a good mood last night.”

Kravitz tilts his head, delight in his eyes. “Of course I do. I have a shameful weak spot for sweet things.”

“Who doesn’t? Never trust someone who hates dessert. Anyway you’re about to have your taste buds blown away, my dude.” 

Kravitz laughs. “It’s a good thing I’m starving.”

“Over there looks nice.” Taako motions toward the stream where a willow tree drapes long curtains of wispy leaves along the bank. 

They head over, Kravitz with his hands clasped behind his back and Taako with the bundle held tightly against his chest as if it might keep his heart steady. A lovely spot awaits where the willow blocks the sun’s heat. Taako opens the bundle there. He takes time to spread the cloth over the cushy grass and set out the small assortment of pastries that had been neatly packed into two tins. Still-warm cinnamon scones, chocolate-filled peppermint macarons, raspberry passionfruit tarts, and puff pastries burgeoning with banana coconut cream.

Kravitz’s eyes widen as he takes it all in. “This looks incredible, Taako. You made it all? _Last night_?”

“You fuckin’ know it. I don’t mess around.” He picks up a scone and offers it to Kravitz. “Eat these first. Baked these this morning.”

Kravitz looks like he just won the lottery. Taako is sure that he has.

They laze away the morning in conversation as they devour the rich tea-time spread without a spot of tea in sight. Taako couldn’t care less, though. He’s instead fixated on Kravitz’s blissful expressions and the little sounds of enjoyment he makes with each new treat. Kravitz then has the audacity to loosen his cravat _and_ take it off as summer heat claims the late morning hours. That bit of exposed neck does Taako in, and he learns he’s capable of a new emotion— self-congratulatory yearning. It makes his mouth dry. The lack of tea becomes an actual hindrance rather than a mild shame. If Lup were here, he’d make an off-color joke about him being thirsty in more ways than one, but she’s not here. No one is here but Taako and Kravitz, and about a hundred or more strangers. He shoves that line of thought away for now. No use being bummed when his hot gay soulmate is sitting right across from him, moaning over the food he made.

Taako removes his hat and lounges back on the grass with his hands propped behind his head. It’s not intended as an invitation, but he wouldn’t be opposed to a little makeout sesh before it gets too hot and sticky out.

Kravitz smiles down at Taako. “I could really use a glass of water. Want me to see if I can find some since you’re all comfortable down there? I know you’re understandably weird about eating or drinking stuff here, but I’m… quite parched.”

“Hell yeah, but hurry back. I can only lounge in grass for so long before I start worrying about bugs crawling on me.”

Kravitz sweeps the hair from Taako’s forehead that was displaced when he removed his hat. After, his hand hovers. He looks a bit lost, like he didn’t mean to do it, like he feels he shouldn’t have. Taako watches him, keenly aware of how his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. Taako wets his lips, which might have been a mistake. Kravitz’s attention slips to fixate on Taako’s mouth, his jaw works and his eyes darken, then his gaze slides away and he looks out over the meadow.

“I’ll be back quickly. Promise.” Kravitz stands, takes a deep breath, and Taako doesn’t watch him walk away. 

Birds chirp in the willow overhead. They flit around and chase each other playfully, just like everyone else here. Taako grabs his hat and puts it over his face so he can muffle a frustrated groan. He’s fairly sure he’d have it just as bad for Kravitz if they weren’t in this place. Clearly he’s the gentleman type with his kind hesitancy and soft looks (and that tailored suit). Good job, Istus. Kravitz is _perfect_ for him. So how the fuck is _he_ perfect for Kravitz? It’s gonna be a long fucking day. 

⁂

Barry and Lup get married when the tulips peek through a late winter snowfall and the train of Lup’s red gown looks like blood on the white hill where they stand. It’s an old ritual on an old hill where old gods were worshiped—quite literally filled with bones of ancient congregants. They kiss before an altar in the center of a circle of their friends. 

Taako imagines Kravitz standing next to him, part of it all. He unconsciously keeps a bit of distance between himself and Davenport to his right, as though making room. 

After, Taako helps pin Lup’s train up into a bustle. They’re alone by a hedgerow that separates them from a garden party reception down a footworn path. 

She turns to him when he’s done. Her hair tumbles in big loose waves over her shoulders, and her eyes glimmer in the floating lanterns. “All right, how do I look?”

“Beautiful, but you know that.” Taako ducks down to pick a bit of grass from her dress. 

“Yeah. Hey, how are things with your boy? I’ve been so caught up in all of this that I haven’t been able to ask.”

“Great. He might like this whole creepy pagan vibe you have going on.” Taako waves his hand towards the hill.

She laughs. “Well if that’s so, I’d really love to meet him.”

“Yeah. I think he’d love to meet you too. And Barry.” He forces a smile, and he’s sure it makes his eyes dance. He’s practiced this smile so many times before.

She shoulder checks him gently. “Stop that.”

“What?”

“That bullshit smile you got going on, bro, I’m not stupid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get to the reception.”

“Hey, don’t do that. Talk to me.”

“Fuck. I’m _fine_. It’s your big day! I couldn’t be happier.” He fixes the lace overlay on the hip of her gown.

“It’s honestly pissing me off that you’re gonna stand there and lie to me like that, but suit yourself.”

“Okay. _Okay_. It’s just – don’t tell a fucking soul I said this, okay? I wish he could be here, especially today. I hate that you’ll never meet him. I hate that he’ll never meet you. I want him to be part of my whole life, not just four days a year, and he can’t be. It fucking sucks. That’s it. Now can we go eat cake?”

“Damn, Taako. Your whole life? You got it so bad for this guy.” 

“What? I never said that. I said—”

“You absolutely said that.”

“I fucking didn’t. I said—”

“Listen, I understand, I really do. You’re apart for so long it gives you time to really simmer. You probably stay awake at night thinking of that ass don’t you.”

He slouches in defeat. “Fuck you, Lup.”

“Shut up, don’t curse at me. It’s my wedding day.” She loops her arm around his forearm. “Come on, I wanna drink till I'm sloppy and dance with my motherfucking _husband_.”

Taako snorts in his sorry attempt to stay mad and not laugh. They saunter over to where Barry’s waited patiently in his party jeans for their grand entrance. Lup slips away from Taako, and sidles up to Barry, and she’s so happy and bright that it sweeps his melancholy mood aside for the rest of the night. 

⁂

The vernal equinox rolls in with heavy rain. Forests thicken with green growing things, and the strong scent of humid earth fills the air all the way into Neverwinter. Taako arrives a little later in the morning this time to avoid the bulk of the deluge. He walks to the alley with a skip in his heart and Lup’s umbrella held overhead. 

_“It has an enchantment on it so you don’t get wet, even if the wind blows or you step in a puddle. Just stay under it and your hair will keep that silky Fantasy Pantene shine. Now, go see your boy,”_ she said before he left. 

Once inside the alley, the rain tapers off and the faint odor of woodsmoke drifts from beyond the cottage. Before he even steps foot inside, he’s imagining bonfires and stew and cider. All the delicious harvest-oriented foods he can make with a heavy pot and nice, stoked embers. 

Taako closes the umbrella and heads quickly up the path for the meadow. He knows Kravitz is here just by the way everything feels and looks a little brighter. Childhood memories surge at the vivid autumn colors alight among the trees. Memories he shares with Lup of diving into leaf piles and getting caught in a hideaway thicket with pilfered kitchen supplies they’d been using to make delightfully inedible food from mushrooms and dirt and decaying leaves. He walks swiftly along a new path that arcs around the center of the meadow, around the newly kindled bonfire, to where he and Kravitz agreed to meet.

It’s easier now, approaching Kravitz. A lot less weird, but no less exciting. He slips right into his open arms. His eyes drift shut as he’s enveloped, and he can’t help but nuzzle at his collar. It’s been months, and he smells so fucking nice.

“Fancy umbrella. Are those… rhinestones?” Kravitz says, his embrace tightening as he’s nuzzled.

Taako pulls back from the embrace, and gives a proud little smile.“My sister made it. She’s always Fantasy bedazzling things. Says it makes it look more _enchanted_.”

“ _Is_ it enchanted?”

“I mean, yeah. It was raining pretty fucking hard this morning, but as you can see cha’boy’s hair is perfect.” He tousles his hair for emphasis. “Not a speck of mud on my boots, either.”

Kravitz watches Taako’s hair fall back in place with unabashed adoration and a sideways smile. “I could use something like that.”

“I can ask her to make you one.”

“Oh, that’s all right. I might look a bit, ehm…”

“Ridiculous? You’d be correct. But you’d also be dry. Hey, you wanna have a look around and see what’s new? I think I saw a few boutiques. I kinda have to know what sort of bomb ass clothes would be in the bubble dimension of a weaver-goddess.”

“I suppose we could.” He tugs at his ear and gives the boutiques in question a slightly disinterested glance that Taako doesn’t miss.

“You sure?”

Kravitz smiles. “I’d just like to be with you, so, lead the way.”

“Good answer.”

“I mean, we can’t take anything out of here. What could possibly be for sale?”

Taako considers this, then spreads his hands outward. “Experience enhancers. Think about it, what do people do here? They hang out, they bone, they go home. I bet one is romance food—possibly a chocolatier—and next, there has to be _some_ form of clothing shop. People wanna look nice for their hot dates. Not that you need help there.” 

Kravitz’s mouth twists as he tries not to smile. He has to know how fucking good he looks. The man’s always so nicely dressed, he probably has a goth tailor in the goth village with a goth graveyard Taako imagines as his home. 

“Then there’s a run-of-the-mill corner store. You know, for when people get headaches or forgot toothpaste.” Taako shrugs. “Not everyone here is trying to get lucky.” He slides his hand into Krav’s, lets their fingers graze and slowly twine together. 

“They probably like chocolate and clothes too,” Kravitz adds, amused. “I’m learning a lot about your expectations of what happens here.”

“Just observations, babe.” Taako winks, adds a finger gun in an attempt to make it less flirtatious, which of course isn’t how it works. So they both end up giggling and playfully shoving each other along as they make their way to the shops.

Speaking of, Taako is right about them. But they’re more than just a corner store, a chocolatier, and a clothing boutique. They’re conversation fodder. Given that there are so many people from vastly different eras of time and locale to cater to, they all have plenty of peculiar things to discuss without having to deal with awkward pauses and lost trains of thought. They learn more about each other in the process, and that warm feeling unspools further. Taako catches his reflection in a mirror at the clothing boutique, and he’s just smiling the whole time like a fucking doofus. 

When the sunlight fades and a sickle moon rises, they huddle on the steps of the temple facing the dark forest. Taako’s hat rests next to them along with Kravitz’s coat. They share a mug of warm brandy cider in silence as fireflies blink among the trees. 

Taako’s eyes feel heavy, so he sits up and stretches. When he’s done, Kravitz leans over to kiss him. It’s brief and soft. A fleeting press of his lips at the corner of Taako’s mouth. Taako blinks, the surprise passing swiftly into eagerness, as he turns toward it too late. Kravitz’s gaze falls, bashful, toward the mug in his hand. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Should’ve asked.”

Taako swallows thickly. “It’s—uh.” His face heats up. His heartbeat quickens to the point it’s all he can feel. He musters up a little flirty quip, though it comes out far more breathless and needy than he intends. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I barely felt anything. Might want to try that again. Put some—”

The words are swept right out of his mouth as Kravitz leans in, smiling, and presses a firm kiss to his lips. Taako is rendered momentarily stunned a second time, but it lasts a mere second before he’s reaching across to gently cradle Kravitz’s face in his hands. Kravitz tilts his head to angle for a deeper kiss, catches Taako’s bottom lip between his, and releases go only to do it again, deeper, firmer, until Taako’s fingers curl and his mouth opens and their tongues slide together. There’s that sensation unspooling again, spilling out farther than before. It’s warm and it tingles and he wants to let it fill his whole body. 

Kravitz sets the mug aside as Taako pulls him closer. He props himself on one hand, and with the other, draws goosebumps down Taako’s arm. The fusion of internal heat and external chill makes him shiver, and he gradually withdraws from the kiss. It takes him a moment to unfold his senses to the world outside of Kravitz’s proximity. The temple sconces are bright and the nearby flowers colorful, but it’s all still too dull to draw him away from the faint taste of cider that lingers from the kiss. He closes his eyes when Kravitz sweeps a few strands of hair behind his ear. He’s noticeably careful not to touch his ear too directly, evoking a swoop of affection through Taako.

“All right?” he asks quietly.

Taako’s hands have slipped down to hold Krav’s shoulders. “Uh-huh.” 

Kravitz sighs with relief. “Good.”

Taako’s eyes flutter open. “Just good?”

“Oh, you were um. _Great_.” Kravitz squints and leans in when Taako’s brow arches. “...fucking incredible?”

Taako laughs, unable to maintain the aloof pretense. Of all the people who could’ve been chosen as his soulmate, he really hit the jackpot with this one. Handsome, interesting, funny, and now brilliant at kissing. Then there’s that wonderful honey-slow sensation that spreads farther and farther through him with every touch. So why is it all settling a little too deep, a little too sharp, in his bones?

He hasn’t been the best at giving a fuck about the assortment of deities Faerun has to offer, but he felt fairly certain that Lady Istus wasn’t one to pair him with someone that might... leave. It happens. People die. They’re separated by others in their lives. He’s never lost a soulmate, but fuck if it doesn’t hurt enough as it is to have been shuffled around, abandoned—

“Taako? I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous. I really mean it.” 

“I know you do, Krav.” He adjusts a flower that he stuck in Kravitz’s hair earlier. “I haven’t been kissed like that in a long time. Just letting it simmer.”

“Come here.” Kravitz opens his arms to him.

Taako swallows thickly and moves around so he’s sitting between Kravitz’s legs, back resting against his chest. With wildflowers stuck in their hair and hands still clasped, it’s all over before they would ever want it to be. Taako is back in Neverwinter, and he hates the stones that barricade his way almost as much has he loves the path beyond them. Either way, it scares him to death.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out there's more to this story than I anticipate each time I write a new chapter. I'm hoping there will only be one more after this!

Kravitz watches the rising sun scatter tiny jewels of light across the snowy meadow, and waits. It’s lovely, but he knows it would be even more breathtaking once Taako arrives. He pulls a folded slip of paper from his inside breast pocket. It’s worn and creased from the number of times he’s looked it over. He mouths the words written inside. 

_Taako, I miss you so much when we’re apart. I think of you every day. I close my eyes and see your face and I wish I could talk to you so much it hurts. I want to take you around my city. You’d love it there. I think you’d love the food in particular, and there’s so much to do. You’d never be bored. Even though I hate not seeing you every day, the few times I do see you makes it all worth it. You’re worth waiting for every time. I would not take a whole lifetime spent with someone else over our ephemeral days for anything._

Kravitz stops and cringes at how sappy it all sounds. He’s never felt this way, never felt compelled to confess such obscenely romantic notions before. It all sounds so much more palpable in his favorite classical novels and operas, but that could be because it’s about someone else. He’s had feelings for only two other people in the past, and it never got this intense. A rush of anxiety hits and his stomach lurches as his eyes skim over the next line.

_Taako, I love you, and I think I’ve found a way around the fated meadow._

He exhales a plume of cold air and removes a compact scrying mirror from his pocket. His mother gave it to him when he came of age. A family heirloom that once enabled people to communicate over long distances in the same way tablets and telephones do in his time. It has never worked for him, but if anyone could figure out how to, it would be Taako. And perhaps, _perhaps_ they would have a way to keep in touch.

Pocketing the scrying mirror, he waits as the tiny village meadow awakens, first suffused with violet hues, then blue, then gold. 

⁂

Taako sits at the small table in the modest Phandalin townhome he shares with Lup and Barry. A mug of tea steeps before him, floral steam suffusing the air. The room gradually brightens as the sun rises and another knot ties in his stomach. 

Lup shuffles downstairs in her robe and nightgown. She yawns and stops short when she notices Taako.

“You’re still here?”

He hopes his ‘fuck off’ glare is response enough.

“Nuh-uh.” She pulls out the chair across from him and sits. “You’ve got a quarterly date with your boy and you’re sitting here in the dark. What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m totally chill. Couldn’t sleep so I’m, you know, trying to wake myself up for good.”

Her gaze drops to where he’s idly pressing on his sternum with his fingertips. Where the ache resonates. He stops and puts his hand in his lap. At least she can’t see that his leg is trembling.

“Babe…” She’s about to say more, but she hesitates. 

“I’m _fine_.”

Lup leans forward. “No. Just yesterday you were _so_ excited. Now you–now you’re upset about something, I can tell. But if you don’t want to—”

Her concern-heavy tone unlodges raw emotion gathering in his throat. “I’m not going back,” he blurts, voice cracking. Remembering that Barry’s upstairs, he keeps his words hushed, though no less wrought. 

“It might suck at first but I’ll get used to it. It’s not a real relationship. It’s a fuckin’ fantasy, Lu. A fairytale. What if we fight? What if he gets sick and doesn't show up? I thought it was the perfect setup at first. I get to have a hot boyfriend and my freedom to do whatever the fuck I want at the same time. But then I… then-- _fuck_.”

“You fell in love with him,” she supplies.

He groans, bitterness rising to shield him from the gravity of those words. “Listen, it’s a glorified spell cast by a goddess that we have no control over. It’s not love. It’s just a game, and we’re fuckin pawns.”

She furrows her brow. “Excuse me, but the way I feel about Barry? That’s not a game. It’s love. The bond doesn’t form if it isn’t. It’s just a little preemptive, is all. You’re not the first person in the world to question it, but it’s a real thing.”

“Well, I believe it’s real for you two.”

“You think how you feel isn’t real?”

His jaw clenches. His face feels hot and cold at the same time. His chest feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice. All from the effort it’s taking to deny his own fucking feelings to himself. “It’s not fair. He’s so good and I’m… well.”

She stands up and props her hand on the tabletop next to him, leaning into his space. “What’s not fair is refusing to go so you break that man’s heart because you’ve got some wack coping mechanisms clouding your judgment. You need to talk to him about this. Be open about how you feel, all right? Tell him just what you told me and everything else that you haven’t. If he’s good as you say, he’ll understand. You’ll work through this. The soulbond isn’t a joke, Taako. Resisting it hurts like hell and you know it.” She nods pointedly to where he’s pressing on his chest again to alleviate the ache without realizing it.

“Fuck,” Taako says under his breath as he burries his face in his hands. 

“It’s hard. A bad person wouldn’t worry about this. I think your feelings are more than valid, but he’s probably there now, waiting. Right?”

Of _course_ he is. Taako pushes his mug of tea away and stands. “Fine. I’ll go.” Then, softer. “Thanks, Lu.”

She smiles and hugs him. He slouches into the embrace.

The stairs creak, alerting them to Barry’s presence. He enters the kitchen and takes down a mug. “Taako? Why’re you still here?”

“He had bad gas and didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his boyfriend. He’s just leaving now,” Lup says, giving Barry a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, I know the feeling,” Barry says.

Taako glares at Lup. “Gross.” 

⁂

Despite Taako’s reluctance, he does go to Neverwinter. The train ride feels longer than ever. Not even flipping through his spellbook helps pass the time. It’s almost noon by the time he arrives at the place where the alley should be. But… It’s not there.

 _No_ …

Taako presses his hand to sun-warmed stones as solid as the ground under his feet. There’s not even a hint of cold from the other side. He grits his teeth as a wave of big emotions, most of them _horrible_ , push up into his chest. What has he done? 

Carriages pass, their wheels noisily grind stones and dirt. People chatter, vendors shout about their wares, shop doors open and close, a dog barks in the distance. It’s all too much and he feels the sting behind his eyes too late. Tears slip past his closed eyes as he turns away.

Taako looks upward. The crisp, blue sky blurs with tears, so he pretends to adjust his hat and fix his hair while he discreetly wipes them away. This is embarrassing as hell. What the fuck, Istus? He casts a dark look up and down the street and spots the temple a short distance away. It’s a place he’s literally never set foot in, so he has no idea if Istus has an altar there, seeing as she’s one of the more obscure deities, but it’s worth a shot.

He turns back to the wall, giving it one more chance to appear. When it doesn’t, he puts his hand on the stones and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I’ll fix this,” he says softly, then heads for the temple.

⁂

An hour passes. Kravitz resists the urge to pace. It’s all right, sometimes one or the other might be late. Sometimes it can’t be helped. But he’s running out of things to do to pass the time. He wadded up the note long ago. He doesn’t need it, his feelings for Taako are a constant litany in his mind, and perhaps off the cuff they won’t sound so cloying.

Another hour passes. Then two. It’s now past noon, and after drifting around the village half-heartedly, Kravitz wanders down the pathway back to the cottage. The closer he gets, the more he feels drawn towards it, which unleashes a spike of anticipation. Any second now.

But the door remains shut. He gives it an odd look, then places his hand on its smooth surface. 

“Taako?” He holds his breath.

He swears the door feels warm for a moment. Then the warmth is gone.

⁂

“Sir, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re here today,” says Angus, apropos of nothing. He stands in the doorway to Taako’s office with a bundle of strapped books in his arms. 

Taako looks up from the planar arcane physics research he’d been working on all day. “What’s your point?”

“But, it’s the solstice, sir.”

“I _know_.”

Angus pulls a face, a very confused and disappointed face that makes Taako want to apologize for every wrong thing he’s done. “Usually you’re in the meadow all day.”

“Yeah well, the meadow was closed for business, so here I am.” Taako returns his focus to the calculations. 

“What? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Unless—”

“Don’t say it, bucko.” Taako stands and moves to the chalkboard behind his desk. He grabs a stick of chalk and begins working through a calculation. “Believe me, I’ve already had a good hour-long worry sesh about that possibility and I’ve moved on. He couldn’t be dead, I’d know.” 

Angus smiles and pushes his glasses up on his nose. “I wasn’t going to say that, sir, I was going to say unless you’ve upset Lady Istus somehow.”

Taako sighs and draws a particularly harsh equal sign. There had not been an altar to Istus in the temple. When he asked a temple custodian, she said there used to be one somewhere near the Fern Dancer Tavern’s current spot, but it was torn down over a hundred years ago to make room for shops. If anyone is on her bad side, it’s whoever did _that_. 

He went to the museum in hopes parts of her old temple might be there. A statue, a cracked pillar. _Something._ All he found was a large, weathered chunk of stone that formed the pediment. It looked exactly like the temple in the meadow. He’d never admit to anyone, especially not Angus, but he did in fact attempt to commune with Istus at that fucking stone in the museum like an absolute dipshit, and as far as he could tell, nothing happened.

“Listen, if she’s gonna set up this entire other fucking dimension to put people together from different time periods, she should expect a bit of complaining.”

“Yes, I agree, sir, but it does look like you’re working out a way to hack into the dimension. She might have a bit of trouble with that.”

Taako looks over his work, clutching his chin in his hand. “That can’t be why. I only started working on this _after_.”

“Oh?” Angus also looks over Taako’s work, and mimics his pensive poise. He smiles. “I think I understand now. She wants you to do this. If she didn’t close the dimension, you wouldn’t be here working on this project all day long. I think she might be looking out for you.”

“...Huh.” Taako picks up his wand and taps it against a pair of compact scrying mirrors he has on his desk. The glyphs etched around their tops flash with magical light then fade. “Well, if this works, I’ll believe it.”

“What _are_ you doing, sir?”

“Playing a long game. He’s from the future, so I’ve created a family heirloom of sorts with a bit of augmented transmutation magic. I’m hoping with these puppies we’ll be able to stay in touch between visits. Now I just need to figure out where the fuck his ancestors live.”

“Or you could just give it to him in person next time.”

Taako waves a hand airily. “That won’t do. I can’t wait around and risk it not being open again.”

“Okay. Why not use bigger mirrors?”

“That’s the dream, but these mirrors already connect, and I think I'd have more luck getting it to him.”

“Then I’d love to help you, sir. I bet I could figure out who his ancestors are before lunch tomorrow. Tell me a bit more about him, please?”

Taako spills as much detail about Kravitz as he’s comfortable giving. He’s from seven hundred years in the future and lives in an apartment in future Neverwinter. Kravitz was a family surname at one point. He grew up in a temple of the Raven Queen where his mother was an acolyte, and apparently his family has long served the goddess. The temple was built in the past - relative to now, so his ancestors could very well be there already.

“He’s a half elf, so you might be looking for humans or elves. Very handsome, like, drop dead gorgeous. It’s distracting. You’re looking for some real hot ancestors, Ango.”

Angus appears to barely resist rolling his eyes. “Okay, if his mother was an elf, she could still be around now. Did you ask?”

Taako balks. “Holy shit, dude. No I didn’t ask, that’d be rude as hell. But if she was an elf, that’d make this a whole lot easier.” 

“Well, Kravitz is definitely a human surname. Anyway, I’ll figure it out.” Instead of turning to go, he steps closer to look at the scrying mirrors. “Um, do you think you could teach me what you’re doing?”

“It’s transmutation mixed with a dose of divination. A bit out of your wheelhouse.” He eyes the books Angus carries. “Finish your homework and we’ll see. I’ll give you a freebie for helping me with this bubble dimension shit.”

Angus nods and leaves with enthusiastic promises to not disappoint. Taako knows better than to doubt him.

⁂

The entire day rolls by, slow and agonizing. Kravitz forgot how quickly time passes when Taako is with him. By nightfall, Kravitz stands before the midwinter bonfire and stares down at the mirror. He opens and closes the silver mirror case. Fidgeting. Fighting off an onslaught of hurt feelings. The heat from the fire is almost unbearable, but only because it reminds him of Taako, and how warm it feels to hold him. He shuts the pocket mirror, and shoves it back into his coat. 

Someone slips in place beside Kravitz. A tall half-elf woman awkwardly waves at him. She has one side of her long, black hair braided back over her tapered ear, and the other side hangs over her right eye. Her hands are shoved in the pockets of a black leather jacket with black feathers stitched the collar. Black torn jeans and black leather boots complete her aesthetic.

“Hey,” she says. “Nice necklace.”

“Hello.” He absently touches the raven skull pin fastened to his cravat. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been on your own all day,” she says. “My bondmate couldn’t make it this time either. It’s not a great feeling, literally.”

Kravitz shuffles his feet a bit nervously for having been so damn obvious. “No, it’s not.”

“There’s a little pub trivia thing at the tavern tonight for people in our situation. If you’re up for it. The theme tonight is magic specializations.”

Of course it would be. Kravitz shrugs a shoulder. “I’m not sure that I am, but thank you, ah--”

“Sloane.”

“I’m Kravitz. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Same. Yeah I’m not really good at trivia either, but it’s a good distraction. I usually half-ass it all and enjoy the free booze.” She chuckles. “Otherwise out here you’re surrounded by the lucky ones. The less discreet face sucking begins as soon as it’s dark enough. Gets kinda horny out here.”

Kravitz laughs a little. “I… must have been too preoccupied to notice before. But you may have a point.”

“Well, if it helps to take your mind off of things for a bit, help me round up other lonely souls? Then if you still want to brood out here go for it, or you can join me for a pint.”

Kravitz considers it and brushes his thumb over the etched filigree on the mirror case in his pocket. “To be fair, the night’s still young. He could just be running late. He’s headmaster of a magic school, he’s a chef, he has a family and friends. Something might be up with one of them.” _He could be sick, or injured, or…_

“Sometimes Hurley is really late because she’s been on a case all day. Can’t really put crime on hold.” Sloane looks at him with gentle sympathy. “What’s his name?”

“Taako.” He smiles, because he can’t help it when he says his name.

“Oh, I think she mentioned meeting him.”

“He’s hard to forget once you have.”

“I hope he turns up. Well, I need to go. It was nice meeting you.” Sloane turns to go.

“Wait. I’ll help. I’ll help you hunt down the–ah–lonely souls.”

The corner of her mouth lifts in a smile. “Thanks. Starts at eight thirty.”

Kravitz checks his pocket watch. Forty-five minutes. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for exactly as he sets out in the opposite direction, but he notices most of them as soon as he lays eyes on them. They look how he feels: out of sync, preoccupied with their thoughts, somewhat off-color. It’s technically more of a feeling than anything else, and perhaps they’re connected somehow in their aching. Some of them refuse, happy to hang out with the platonic bondmates who sit around the bonfire, some prefer to just be alone. In the end, he manages to wrangle about three. 

Kravitz helps the three settle in for trivia, then looks for Sloane to let her know he’s going to pass on the pint. She seems like a pleasant enough person, but he’s not in the mood to be social, nor is beer his favorite form of alcohol. He finds her huddled in a corner booth with a halfling woman, not at all paying attention to the pub trivia going on in the main dining area. Her bondmate must have arrived at some point. A smile slips up despite his low mood. He leaves without disturbing her and heads for the temple to Lady Istus. It’s the only place left he hasn’t visited tonight.

There, in the intermittent halos cast by the pillar sconces, the enormous loom weaves countless threads of muted colors. Kravitz watches the treadles move on their own, watches the thread slowly unwind from his chest to be woven into the tapestry. The tapestry itself drapes to the floor under the loom and disappears into a slip of light. The past is done, unreachable, but the future is a work in progress. His day’s thread makes a straight line that dips down here and there. Others soar upward in large swaths of multiple colors. Every visit is translated to twelve rows for each person, he counts, and this visit is almost over.

All day he’s waited, and he will continue to wait until the long night is over and fate pushes him back out to the sidewalk and the icy streets and the cars spinning slush under their tires. This had to happen at some point. Something would prevent the other from coming, and they’d suffer a longer time apart. 

⁂

Taako focuses on one of the mirrors on the desk before him. He closes his eyes and concentrates, wand in hand, to knit the spell that should create a permanent channel to its twin. The glyphs around the reflective surface glow and the mirror shimmers. Magical energy sizzles in the air and he feels the ethereal threads between them connect. He opens his eyes and waits. 

The other mirror’s glyphs brighten, and he swipes his fingertip around them to bridge the connection. The surface of the mirror swirls and undulates, and when it clears, it reflects what the other mirror sees.

“Hell yeah, back in business, baby.” Taako closes the connection and sits back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head.

There’s a knock at the door. Magnus peers in without waiting for Taako to answer. “Hey, Angus told me to give you this. He had to get home to finish his lessons.” He offers a stack of parchment. “You doing all right?”

Taako takes the stack and begins flipping through it. “Peaches and cream, homie, you?”

“Yeah, just been worried about you, bud. I miss Julia like crazy all the time and she’s just in another country.”

“When’s she coming back, by the way?”

“Four months if things go well.”

“Yeah? That’s not too bad.”

“Could be worse,” Magnus says, then wistfully adds, “I can’t wait to hold her Taako. You have no idea. I’m tired of holding my pillow and pretending it’s her.”

“Ugh. I really don’t wanna know what you do with your pillows,” Taako drawls as he skims over Angus’s notes. 

“I’m gonna ask her to marry me when she gets back.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah.”

Taako holds his thumb in place where he was reading and regards his friend thoughtfully. “You knew her for a while before you felt the pull, yeah?”

“Oh, years. We, um… pretended that we were already bonded so her parents would approve.”

Taako laughs. “Incredible. So, like, does it feel different after you’re soulbonded?”

“It does in some ways and not others. The way I feel about her? That didn’t change. Love is love, right? What did change was the connection between us got stronger. Being around her is like a literal high, and being apart hurts, man. You might understand all that. It’s not really about the love, it’s about the bond. I’m not good at explaining this sort of thing.”

“Hmm. I get you.” Taako resumes reading the notes, and zeroes in on a detail in the notes that Angus took. “Holy shit. He did it.” He snatches the papers up and rushes out the door, leaving behind a very confused Magnus.

⁂

Taako stares up at the intricate, gothic exterior of the Raven Queen’s temple. It’s larger than he envisioned--a three-story stone structure flanked by winged guardian statues. The third level is smaller and domed. Ravens perch along the parapets. They call down to him and croak to each other. Some swoop to perch on nearby branches. Basically, it’s spooky as hell, just as he imagined.

This has a high likelihood of being a bad idea, but he has to try something. If Angus is correct, Kravitz was named after the human side of his family, and his great-great grandparent would be alive at the temple. Throw an elf in the mix and the truncated lineage makes more sense. 

A woman answers the door the moment he reaches the stoop. Her long black robes trail the floor and her silver eyes regard him coolly from beneath her hood. She tilts her head at him, reminding him of the birds outside.

“May I help you?” 

“This is gonna sound absurd, but I need to give you this.” He withdraws the pocket mirror from his hip pouch. “Well, maybe not _you_ , but someone there needs this and it’s super important that they get it. Surname Kravitz, that ring a bell?”

She stares at the mirror, and takes it gingerly with a small nod. “I will deliver this when she is free of her nightly duties. May I ask whom it’s from?”

“A loved one.” Shit. He should have rehearsed this. “A loved one, um, died? They were a follower of Lady Istus, and their will said to please keep this in the family. It’s very important. Didn’t give more details, but, you know, it’s Istus.”

“I see.” She looks him over with subtle scrutiny. “And who are you?”

“A… friend. A friend of a distant relative. Anyway, thanks!” He hurries away, stirring the ravens again as he passes through the courtyard and out the temple gate. Once on the other side, he glances back to see the woman still standing in the doorway for a moment longer, before it slowly closes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! Thank you so much for reading and your lovely comments. This chapter does have a sex scene, but it's not explicit.

Kravitz stays in the meadow until the very end. One moment he’s on the temple steps playing solitaire, and the next he’s sitting on the icy sidewalk, cards outspread before him on the refrozen slush. He gathers them up before the winter winds can blow them away, and rises to his feet. Low clouds obscure the glow of dawn, and a snowplow scrapes past, loud and grinding. It all pulls him fully back into this reality. Nothing to do now but head home.

His apartment feels all the more lonely after the long night. He leaves snow-encrusted boots by the front door, and above, he hangs his coat on the wall hook. With a heart as heavy as his eyes, he immediately heads for the sofa and slips into a deep meditative trance.

He dreams of a loom pulling threads from everything in existence. He tries to catch them, to stop the pull of it, but the threads slip through his hands like they’re light and nothing more. All he can do is stand there to watch it all unravel until he’s left alone in an empty white space. 

The late afternoon sun casts a gold haze in the room and rouses Kravitz. Pins and needles travel up his arm. He feels irritable and vaguely ill like he always does after spending too long in a trance. A few moments of tranquil disorientation passes, he doesn’t even think of Taako at all, and then it hits. The ache in his chest hitches him away from that calmness like a sail full of wind, makes him squeeze his eyes shut. All the rationalizations used to placate his fears fly out the window. Heart rate climbing, breath seizing, he presses his palms against his face. How could he love someone so much that he hasn’t seen but a few days? Time feels strange. Warped. It’s been a  _ year _ . He’s had a whole year to let his heart fall open and vulnerable. 

Blearily he tries to anchor himself to some logical excuse.  _ Taako is okay. You’ve done nothing wrong. He’s not avoiding you. He’s a busy man. He lives in an age where it might not be easy to travel sometimes.  _

Okay, that helps somewhat. Kravitz forces himself to stand. He takes a shower and spends time carefully drying and treating his locs. The routine grounds him enough so he remembers to grab a bite to eat.

Part of his day job as a palliative care nurse is to help people find a sense of normalcy when their lives have been disrupted by terminal illness, to help them maintain their usual routines for as long as they are able. Brushing teeth, showering, getting dressed, taking medication. All those little things that bring some semblance of control over things. He’s certainly not facing something so drastic, but following his own advice wouldn’t hurt. Heartache is heartache, after all.

⁂

Thelise Kravitz holds the strange pocket mirror in her palm. She has no idea who would have given it to her, but didn’t want to question fate. It’s beautiful, and rife with carefully crafted arcane energy. Delicate ribbons of transmutation magic weave among enchantments and tiny threads of divination. Whoever created it was very good at their craft, and clearly had some important purpose in mind for it. Though why it was given to her, she was at a loss to understand. Some distant relative passed it on, apparently. But who? She did not know her family. She’d been left on the temple doorstep as an infant with nothing but a scroll bearing her name and a request to keep her safe. 

With tears in her eyes, she slips the pocket mirror into the drawer by her bed for safekeeping. There it would remain, a symbol of her belonging to someone somewhere, until she passed it to her child, and they passed it on to theirs. 

⁂

Halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, dark clouds descend on Neverwinter with a threat to squeeze out one more ice storm. Kravitz stands on his balcony after a long day of counseling a distraught family on their loved one’s end-of-life needs. Rounding that off was nearly two hours of practice in a stuffy orchestra basement for an upcoming concert. He’s so ready to sit under blankets on his couch and binge  _ Fantasy Grand Designs _ all night while the ice falls. For now, he’s content to enjoy the fresh, crisp air.

His apartment overlooks a small garden courtyard between buildings. Faint footsteps form chaotic trails in the snow where kids had likely been at play earlier, before the forecast shifted. It’s hush quiet. Peaceful. Like the meadow that night when he and Taako held each other on the temple steps. Inevitably, his hand drifts to his coat pocket where the mirror has remained since his last visit.

Trinket swoops up to the balcony from an elm tree in the courtyard, and perches next to Kravitz. He smiles and scratches at her neck, evoking a series of happy little croaks.

“It’s good to see you too.”

She shuffles along the balcony rail and eyes the shiny mirror case. She gives it a little tap with her beak.

“Oh, I’m sorry, this isn’t for you, dear. Here.” He offers her a peanut, shell and all, which she deftly plucks from his fingers. She holds it in her talons and pecks free the nut inside, then hops up his arm to perch on his shoulder. 

An elderly woman emerges from a corridor between buildings, and shuffles through the courtyard holding a reusable grocery bag. She gives Kravitz a double-take and stops in her tracks.

“Heavens, Kravitz,” she calls up to him. “You’ve given me a fright standing up there with that bird on your shoulder. It’s like Death watching over me.”

Kravitz laughs a little. “Do you need a hand, Mrs. Nolan? The weather’s about to get pretty bad.” 

“Actually, that would be kind of you, dear.”

“Coming right down.”

Kravitz guides Trinket to the balcony rail, and heads down to help Ms. Nolan back to her apartment. She gives him a list and some coin, which he tries to refuse. He reaches for the door to leave, when she puts a hand on his arm.

“Kravitz, you’re a good man. You’ll make a fella out there very happy someday.”

Kravitz tries not to appear shocked that this old lady clocked him, but he supposes it’s better than having to stumble through a correction on an assumption that he’s straight.

He laughs a little sheepishly. “Ah, thank you, Ms. Nolan. I hope so.”

“I just worry about you being alone up there all the time, that’s all. You’ve got a raven for a pet for Lathander’s sake.”

“Well, there is someone, but he lives in, uh, another town.”

“Oh that’s a shame. He should come visit. What’s he called, then?”

Kravitz rubs the back of his neck, feeling a little awkward just standing there in her foyer, surrounded by decades of homely clutter, talking about his personal life. “He’s ah, Taako.”

“Ahhh, you really like him. Look at your eyes just spark to life. Makes me miss my Walter, it does.”

Mr. Nolan passed away three years ago. It had been especially difficult to help Mrs. Nolan through her grief, as typical of a lost bondmate. Many don’t outlive them, but one of the Raven Queen’s tenets is that death has its own impetus outside of the whims of fate, and the soulbonds needent interfere. It’s not wrong if they do, but in many cases, the desire to embrace death after the loss of a bondmate is temporary, and eases with time and support. Mrs. Nolan had a strong will to live, despite missing her husband, and Kravitz was there to help find her way through the fog of depression.

Kravitz absently presses a hand to his heart, where the dull ache of bond distance resonates. If he talks any more about Taako, he’ll succumb to emotions, so he gestures to the grocery bag draped over his arm. “Well, I’m going to head out so I can be back with your things before that freezing rain hits.”

“Yes, dear, thank you. Take care out there,” she says with a little sing-song to her voice, and closes the door as he heads out.

⁂

Taako finally finishes setting up his food service carriage at the harvest festival outside of Neverwinter. He runs through the inventory one more time. Checks the sharpness of the knives and places all prep utensils out on the counter. The day ahead looks to be beautiful, sunny with a pleasant breeze. There will be a fuckton of people. Good thing he grabbed the extra crate of apples.

Just outside the carriage, Magnus sets up a tent and a couple of tables. Lup stokes a fire, overwhich roasts the first round of several chickens. She stands and stretches.

“Gonna head over to the apothecary tent and visit Barry for a bit. Be back soon,” Lup says, and slinks off without waiting for a reply.

Merle arrives shortly after with a basket of late summer flowers and autumn arrangements. He sets a few on the tables and hangs others from the carriage and tent. It all looks fantastic. Super inviting. Taako eyes the other rather ordinary-looking food tents and carriages nearby and grins to himself. 

“I should’ve brought another table,” Magnus says, scratching his head. “I’ll be back in a jiff.” He rushes off to his tent where he has set up woodworking crafts for sale.

Merle heads off as well, to gods know where, leaving Taako alone to put the final touches on his display. He’s checking on the chickens outside (the smell already makes his mouth water) when Lucretia approaches to inspect everything for the festival.

“Wow, this looks great. Taako, you’re gonna slay out here. We’re expecting hundreds of people, so you’ll no doubt need to get additional supplies. The best time to do it will be during the joust,” Lucretia says, making notes in her leather bound journal.

“Listen, I got this. This ain’t Taako’s first rodeo.”

“Of course, of course.” She hesitates before leaving and eyes him. “Taako, since we’re alone here, I thought I’d ask you something. Those silver mirrors you  _ borrowed _ from the Bureau—don’t deny it, I know everything—what are your plans for them?”

Taako smiles a little crookedly. “Eh, well, yeah. You got me. I did that. Um,  _ sooooo. _ I needed them probably way more than whatever nerd researcher you had working on them. I kinda tweaked the magic a bit. Made a few minor adjustments. Aaaand a few big adjustments. Found an interesting layer of surveillance magic you might wanna jot down in your records because I nixed that one real quick. Anyway, didn’t think it would work, but it turns out I’m really fucking good at magic.”

“You don’t say.” Lucretia sighs. “Those mirrors are property of the bureau artifact collection. You can’t just take them without asking. I’m going to have to ban you from using the archive until they’re returned.”

“Would it help knowing my experiments were way cooler? They could even be mass produced and you’d make a lot more money than from donations alone. I’ll pay you back—”

“They’re from a lost age. You could not possibly  _ mass produce _ something so precious.”

“Would it help if I said I did it for love?”

“What?” Lucretia blinks at him and snaps her journal shut. “This isn’t a joke, Taako.”

The thought of Taako doing something for love is a joke, huh? He’ll let that bother him later. He looks at his fingernails, trying to keep an aloof air. “Specifically of the soulmate variety. You know what that’s like.” Oof, that’s low. At least he’s not low enough to bring up her late wife by name. 

She sighs. “...Go on.”

Taako explains the pocket dimension and the bare essentials of his situation. Despite his preference for it all to remain a private matter, he doesn’t want to be on Lucretia’s bad side. He needs the Bureau and its massive archive of lore and arcana as a resource for his school. There are thousands of artifacts in the collection. Multiple communication devices from bygone eras, even. He didn’t think they’d miss a couple of glorified tin cans.

In the end, Lucretia lets it go as long as she’s able to track both of them, along with some offhand comment about really wanting to see how this romance plays out. He shows her the mirror he kept. Tells her about Kravitz’s ancestor, the acolyte in the Raven Queen’s temple, who is in current possession of the other mirror. She makes notes in her journal.

“From now on, please ask. I value our partnership and don’t want petty theft to get in the way of things.” She gives his festival setup another once-over. “Goddamn. I can’t wait to go to town on one of those chickens.”

“I’ll save one for ya.”

“You better.” Lucretia smiles and wanders off to inspect the next tent.

Relieved, Taako climbs into the carriage and sits on a stool hidden from view of the service window. His hands shake as he takes out the mirror from one of his many pockets. To think he could’ve just lost it. The equinox is close, a month away, and he still hasn’t been able to connect with Kravitz. Maybe it’s a matter of things being just right to ensure that the other mirror ends up in his hands. 

He tries one more time, with fifteen minutes to spare before he’ll be swept into a full day of food service. Nothing happens. The mirror reflects his worried expression and he claps it shut. He’ll keep trying, though he won’t get another chance until the festival shuts down.

Outside, the opening ceremony begins with fanfare and the welcome spiel. Johann plays the song of harvest’s blessing, which has just enough minor notes to keep Taako from tuning it out. Something about those forlorn chords resonates with the ache in his chest, though he’s heard it so many times before. His mood is pulled slightly south of where it needs to be to interact with hundreds of hungry people. Doesn’t matter though, ‘cos Taako can fool anyone all day with his fakest of smiles. He stands and stares across the distance as the last note is played, ready to beguile the masses.

⁂

Kravitz sits on his apartment balcony, an open book in his palm and warm tea at his side. He absently flips the page without absorbing a word of what he’s read. Children play in the garden below and birds flit among the elm tree branches nearby. It’s nice, but he’s too distracted to relax. The spring equinox is fast approaching. Instead of the excited anticipation of visits past, he’s awash in trepidation.

What if he doesn’t show up again? Taako did express ambivalence about the whole concept of the fated meadow. But Kravitz thought... Well, he thought Taako’s feelings for him would overrule it. Gods, he sounds pathetic. He’s had much too long to let the worst fears fester.

An ambulance siren wails in the distance, and he almost doesn’t notice something else. A wobble in his perception, a shift in the atmosphere, followed by a small ripple of magical energy flowing over his mind. He sets his book down and tries to tune out the children’s laughter. It happens again, more urgent, originating from his pocket.  _ The mirror. _

He takes it out and opens it, brushes his finger along the glyphs on the outer edge of the mirror. One by one, the glyphs spark with light. He gasps and nearly drops it, but catches it with a slight fumble. The mirror’s surface swirls with pearlescent colors that coalesce into an image of—

“...Taako?”

“It worked!” Taako’s image blurs from his sudden excitable movements. “It fucking worked!”

Kravitz stares in disbelief. “ _ How _ —”

“Listen, I need to come clean,” Taako says in a rush. “I think I messed things up, cosmically speaking, but everything’s cool now, obviously. Wow.” He laughs, breathless. “Look at you.”

“H-how are you doing this?”

“Magic, baby. I have one too.” 

Kravitz goes inside where it’s quiet and sits on the sofa, disbelief seizing his ability to ask coherent questions. “Taako, I’m, uh, I get that it’s magic, but.”

“So check it. I found these mirrors, right. Did a bit of magic, found your ancestor, gave them a mirror, and hoped for the best.” Taako’s aloof demeanor sobers to something softer as his gaze roams over Kravitz’s features. “And there you are.”

“Taako, it’s... It’s  _ so _ good to see you. I can’t… I don't know what else to say.” Kravitz can barely hold the mirror steady. “I was so worried.”

“Yeah, about the no-show. I’m really sorry. Can’t have that happening again. In case it does, we have an alternative. Three hours a day to talk to yours truly about whatever you like.”

Kravitz doesn’t want to talk right now. He wants to kiss Taako senseless. He wants to hold him in silence and let the warmth of their bond spread over them like a dreamy haze. He almost forgets that he was hurt, the desire to simply stare at his face is so strong. 

“Taako, I’m glad you did this, because… well, I waited for you. I thought something was wrong. I thought you were upset or hurt. I didn’t want to assume things, but I had a lot of hours to let my mind wander.”

Taako looks away and pulls off his hat. His hair sticks to his forehead from sweat. It’s very cute, but another sign that he must’ve had a long day. A line forms between his brows and his mouth pulls in a slight frown.

“I won’t pretend I didn’t have some resentment about this whole sitch.” The view jerks a bit away from Taako as he sets the mirror down in front of him on a steady surface. He reaches behind his neck and unties his apron as he talks. “It’s nice, but it’s not fair, is it? We can’t have a real life together like this. Seeing you only four times a year? It’s horseshit, my man. I thought maybe I’d, you know, stop going and eventually we’d move on.”

Kravitz feels utterly frozen by his words, by the casual way he admits them. His breath shallows and his arms feel numb and heavy. “Taako…”

Taako continues, now meeting Kravitz’s gaze. “But I was wrong and stupid as hell. You can thank my sister for talking sense into me. I took the next train to Neverwinter. Got there around midday, and the alley just wasn’t there. I still don’t know what happened, but I wasn’t gonna let it fuckin’ happen again without being able to talk to you, so. Here we are.”

Kravitz remembers the warmth he felt on the cottage door that day, and wonders. A few quiet moments pass while he lets Taako’s words sink in and as he thinks of how to respond. He can’t deny how they sting, but he also can’t fault him for such reservations. It is unconventional.

“Taako, how I feel about you, it’s…” he sighs. “You’re worth all of this. I wouldn’t even for a second consider a whole lifetime with someone else over our four days. I was planning on telling you that last time. And, well, hmm.” Kravitz threads the logic--if Taako hadn’t given him the mirror yet, then it makes sense that-- “Of course! I brought this mirror to the meadow with the hopes that you could somehow find a way to use it to talk to me. You’re so good at stuff like that and I was beyond clueless. All I knew was that it was an old form of communication device. So, maybe it was my fault. If you hadn’t even given the mirrors their power yet, giving you mine would probably mess up the timelines.”

Taako’s eyes widen. “Oh my god.” He starts laughing. He laughs and laughs. He falls out of view of the mirror and Kravitz can just hear him laughing somewhere below. 

Kravitz smiles despite feeling a bit silly. “Taako?”

Taako sits up and wipes his eyes. “It was your fault all along!”

“Well, I mean, not intentionally...”

“ _ Incredible _ .” He smiles, wide and happy, and wipes away a tear. “I thought I was being punished by a god. Can you imagine?”

“It’s not a stretch.” 

“Hachi-machi,” Taako says, struggling not to laugh. “Krav, you were so horny for me you almost created a paradox.” He falls into another fit of giggles.

Kravitz is too delighted by Taako’s laughter to care overmuch about such an accusation. He shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe so.”

“ _ Oh _ ?” Taako leans forward. The humor in his eyes slides smoothly into something a bit more suggestive. “Tell me more.” 

“I’d rather show you.”

Taako’s eyebrow raises.

Heat floods Kravitz’s face. “I mean, I thought you were joking around. I—um. Really can’t wait to see you in person again.”

“Same, my man.”

They both avert their eyes as shy smiles overtake them.

“Three hours you say?” Kravitz asks.

“Yup. Once it runs out, it takes about twenty hours or so to recharge.”

“Well, then tell me about your day.”

“Oh boy. Good thing we have three hours. It was a doozy.”

Kravitz smiles warmly. “I’m all ears.”

Taako explains the harvest festival the Bureau of Balance put on, and how he ran out of food twice and had to improvise with transmutation more than he anticipated. There was a bit of drama between a few patrons and a candle vendor. A juggler had a wardrobe malfunction. Lord Artemis Sterling himself ordered thirds of Taako’s harvest apple tarts. He’s so bright and descriptive, his excitement infectious, when he talks about cooking and how everyone reacts, that Kravitz is certain he could sit and listen all night long. 

“At the end of the night, there was this magic-off. Different wizards from different schools competed and put on this show, and blah blah I won for transmutation,  _ of course _ .” He reaches to the side, then holds up his little 1st Place Transmutation ribbon.

“Naturally. There used to be so much magic in the world,” Kravitz muses. 

“You mean there isn’t anymore?”

“Well, there is, but most of it is channeled through technology nowadays. What you do… it’s remarkable.”

Taako looks thoughtful for a moment. “Hey, am I still alive? Have you tried to find future me? Wait, scratch that. I’d be super old, so it’s probably best if you haven’t. Let’s go back to how remarkable I am.”

Kravitz laughs. “I honestly didn’t even think of it, but now you have me curious. I bet you still look great. Next time I check on one of my patients at bingo night I’ll look for you.”

Taako snorts. “There’s no fuckin’ way I’d do bingo night. Not in a million years. Catch me napping at the beach with a dope shirt I bought from Fantasy Wings that says ‘Resting Beach Face.’” He pauses, then takes a deep breath. “Hey, Krav?”

“Yes?”   


“I’m glad it’s you that, you know, I’m in this thing with.”

A lump rises to Kravitz’s throat. He nods, understanding completely. They gaze at each other for a beat, then Taako is the one to tilt the subject to something mundane. It doesn’t matter. He’d talk with Taako about fingernail clippings for all he cares. While they don’t talk about that, they do talk about all manner of things. They talk almost every day, and helps the days without him pass until the next equinox.

⁂

“What do you see?” Lup asks.

“The alley.” Taako drifts forward, pulled like a kite in a gentle wind. He has no way to hide his trembling, except to clench his hands into fists. He takes a deep breath with eyes closed and coughs. “Smells like those nasty pear trees.”

Lup snorts, pats the air in front of him. “I see a stone wall. Am I gonna watch you walk right into a wall? How don’t people go bonkers when you do this. How hasn’t anyone noticed?”

“No fucking clue, but, Taako’s out.” 

Lup smiles at him. “Go get ‘em.”

He grins and turns around to walk backwards into the alley, finger guns and all.

Lup looks away, attention drawn by some aptly timed distraction. When she looks back, she flattens her hands against the alley opening and calls out, but he can’t hear her. She tilts her head, puzzled. It’s unnerving to watch her act like he doesn’t exist when he’s standing right there. Eventually, she leaves, and he heads onward to the cottage.

⁂

Spring has arrived, if the shock of color in the distant garden is any indication, but Taako isn’t interested in checking it out. Like, not even a little bit. First of all, it’s  _ pouring _ rain. He didn’t bring his umbrella, hat, or anything else that would shield him from getting drenched. After about five seconds in the rain, the shops and other buildings do tempt him, but no. There could be a whole kitchen depot with the stockpot of his dreams for all he cares. He’s gonna stand right here by the cottage and wait.

Speaking of the cottage, it really should have an inside. Like, a lobby where people can wait, at least. He’s five seconds away from saying fuck it and finding shelter when the cottage door opens. Kravitz is there, handsome and dry and smiling. 

The door is barely shut behind him before Taako practically leaps to him, arms wide. Kravitz wraps his arms around him and doesn’t even recoil upon being ambushed by a soaking wet elf. 

Taako lifts slightly on his toes to align their mouths and kisses him deep and firm. Kravitz pulls him in tighter. His fingers curl into Taako’s clothes. Taako presses closer as rain falls on his eyelids, drips down his face from his hair. It sucks, but he keeps on kissing him until they’re both breathless. 

“Ahem!” Says an annoyed voice behind them. “Mind doing that away from the door, please?” 

Kravitz breaks the kiss and looks over his shoulder. “Oh, my apologies.” With an arm wrapped around Taako, he gently pulls him off to the side under the shelter of a large oak tree. He then removes his jacket and holds it over their heads. It’s a bit awkward, but sweet.

Merle  _ fucking  _ Highchurch walks past them, cursing about the weather and public displays of affection. 

Taako balks. “What the— _ Merle? _ ”

“Hey, buddy,” he says and keeps walking onward. “Don’t look so surprised!” He keeps wandering on, signing to himself.

Taako turns his face toward Krav’s shoulder and snorts a laugh. Kravitz smiles at him. 

“Friend of yours?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Taako picks at his garments. Merle’s unexpected appearance causes It’s enough of a break for it to set in how soaked and uncomfortable it is with wet clothes clinging to him. “Okay, I really wanna see where this goes, but maybe we can find some place dry?”

“There’s a cafe, those shops, the temple, a tavern...”

“Tavern.” Taako puts an arm around Kravitz so he’s a bit more securely under the shelter of his coat. “A glass of wine by the hearth sounds perfect right about now.”

“Is it a bit early for wine, Taako?”

“ _ Fine _ . Mimosas it is.”

“I’m good with a nice cup of Moonshae breakfast tea.” Kravitz rests an arm over Taako’s shoulder, still trying to hold the coat aloft as they head for the meadow proper. Several people play in the rain and mud, and they narrowly avoid getting in the crossfire of a mud glob fight.

Turns out the tavern wasn’t an original idea, though most patrons are gathered at tables for breakfast. It smells incredible. Scones, omelets, pancakes, bacon, and other things from cultures and times he couldn’t possibly name. Taako’s deffo going to check out the food once he no longer feels like a wet burlap sack. He casts prestidigitation to dry off his clothes and hair, then fusses a little over his general appearance.

Kravitz smiles as he pulls off his coat. “That’s a handy spell.”

“Hell yeah, though I was completely drenched so things are still a little damp.” He removes his outer robes and hangs them on a rack by the fire. Next he removes his shoes and sits them on the hearth.

“Could you please get my hair with that,” Kravitz asks after draping his suit jacket alongside Taako’s robe.

“Sure.” Taako moves closer to him and casts it again. He brushes a hand gently along Kravitz’s locs as he aims his wand to dry them. “There.” 

“Thank you.” 

Taako shrugs a shoulder, and straightens Kravitz’s collar. “Don’t mention it. So, is there no magic in the future or something? It’s totally just a cantrip. I could do it in my sleep.”

Kravitz capture’s Taako’s hand and holds it against his chest. “Not as much, it seems.” His gaze slips down to Taako’s mouth, but instead of overt desire, his eyes are filled with some deep unnameable emotion. 

Taako’s heart squeezes in his chest and he knows, oh he knows what it is, because he feels it too. Yeah, yeah, there’s the soulmate pull. But this is different, it’s a current under his skin, in his blood, his bones. It’s scary and wonderful all at once. So he kisses him, softer and less rushed than the kiss in the rain, and he pulls back before he loses himself to it. They’re in a room full of people. He loves an audience, but not for something like this. 

Kravitz leans to whisper in his ear. “How do you feel about going somewhere more private?”

Before Taako can make any assumptions about what exactly Kravitz would like to  _ do _ in private, his big mouth is already agreeing to it all. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”

They secure a room above the tavern, not worried about their things set by the hearth. They joke about the innkeeper’s enormous moustache on the way up the stairs, but as soon as the door closes, Taako feels anxious. He stands in the center of the room and eyes the single bed, the silencing candles, the roses on the nightstand. It’s all so intimate, so suggestive.  _ Presumptuous _ . 

Kravitz doesn’t appear to struggle with the same sort of anticipation. He heads for a strange rectangular pane of glass on the wall and inspects it closely. “Amazing. Taako, look… I think it’s a TV. They’re from my time, only this one seems even more advanced.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. The rain outside fills the room like static. “A wha?”

“A television.” He taps the screen and it flickers to life with moving images. 

Taako stares, transfixed, and slowly sits on the bed. “Tell me more.”

“It’s probably easier to just watch and see for yourself.” Kravitz takes a moment to figure out how to control the television, then finds a cooking program. “Here we go.”

With the television on one wall and the bed against the other, they settle into a loose spooning position so they can both watch. At first, Taako finds it easy to focus on the show. He has fun nit-picking the techniques and coveting the futuristic kitchen tech. But after a time, he’s more acutely aware of Kravitz’s body behind him and how his fingertips trace a lazy pattern along Taako’s arm. His touch is so soothing and nice that Taako falls silent and tries to keep his breaths even. 

Kravitz presses a kiss on the soft hair behind Taako’s ear. “Taako? You got quiet.”

Taako’s ear flicks, tickled by his breath. He’s thought of Kravitz’s hands and mouth on him many times, countless times, and now that it’s happening, he feels dizzy and light. “I’m  _ good _ . Though there’s currently a heated competition between bread sculptures and your hand on my thigh and guess who’s winning.”

“That’s high praise. Bread sculptures are quite remarkable.”

“ _ Pssh _ . I could make one from a real sculpture, no sweat. You on the other hand—” Taako turns around so he’s facing Kravitz on their shared pillow. He’s about to break out something super suave, but now that he’s face-to-face, there’s a lump in his throat. Was he ever actually suave when he meant it anyway? Taako looks down. “Hey, listen. It’s, ah... been a while.”

Kravitz tucks a few strands of hair behind Taako’s ear. “Same here. I’m not expecting anything. I just want to be with you. It’s nice like this, after… well.”

Taako studies Kravitz’s face, his perfect, wonderful face and that slight edge of disquiet set in his brow. He touches his cheek and brushes his fingertips along his jaw, enjoying the rough feel of a couple days stubble there. There’s so much to say. Taako missed him too, like hell. He won’t let it happen again. He hates this stupid fucking meadow and its limitations and how everything has to be rushed and scheduled and—

“I love you,” Kravitz says so quietly Taako almost doesn’t hear it over his own rambling thoughts.

Taako scoots a little closer. The response is right there, right fucking there in his throat, pushing up into his mouth. But instead of saying anything, Taako grazes a thumb over Kravitz’s bottom lip, then kisses him. Because he’s a coward, because they’re just words and words have power, and he doesn’t want words to have so much power over him, but they do. Especially when they come from this man in his arms. So he kisses him deep, kisses away the potential for Kravitz to say more and make him put a name to this overwhelming emotion that’s woven around his entire heart.

Kravitz pulls him so close. Their arms and legs entwine. His hands, fingers splayed, slide through Taako’s hair, and  _ boy howdy  _ does that feel nice. They lie with foreheads touching, hands exploring. It’s a comfortable embrace, one that could easily allow him to fully relax. But Kravitz smells so nice, and he’s everything Taako wants. There are more kisses, soft sighs. Taako grinds against him and lets a hand wander under his shirt to feel his bare skin. 

Kravitz closes his eyes at the sensation. “You’re always so warm.” 

“I think you just have that effect on me,” Taako says with a teasing lilt. 

Kravitz huffs a laugh. He trails a hand lower, over Taako’s stomach, and lower still. “Obviously that’s not the only effect I have on you.”

Taako’s eyes flutter shut. He reaches down, covers Kravitz’s hand with his own, and softly runs his knuckles along the matching swell in his pants. “You’re pretty obvious yourself, handsome.” 

Kravitz turns his face toward the pillow. He smiles and lets out a shaky breath. “That’s all you.”

Yeah, they’re both being cheesy as hell right now, but it’s... nice. 

“Well, ch’yeah,” Taako rolls his eyes, playful and maybe a little defensive for feeling so vulnerable right now. “I sure fucking hope so.”

Kravitz is still smiling, and god he’s gorgeous. He gives Taako a gentle stroke through his pants, eyes dark as the space between stars. “I meant it, earlier. We can slow down if you want to.”

It takes Taako a moment to respond, because…  _ fuck _ . “Uh, you have my dick in your hand, Krav, let’s do this.”

Kravitz laughs, leans over to kiss his shoulder, his neck, his face. Taako catches Kravitz’s mouth with his before he can duck away to kiss somewhere else. Clothes are pulled off and discarded, fingertips press into thighs and hips. There’s raw, unabashed bliss. Teeth grazing skin, quick, stuttering breaths, and Kravitz’s hand wrapped around both of them with deft, measured strokes. 

But there’s also a pleasant warmth that spreads throughout him, slow like poured honey, like a blot of ink on paper. Taako’s heart aches from it, and it’s so good he forgets he’s supposed to feel like he doesn’t deserve this. Kravitz whispers his name against his skin, and it hits him that this is all there is and tomorrow he’ll be gone, in another time, and he’ll lie in bed and feel that whisper on his neck for months. He’ll crave something so small and so tender and it’s all too much. 

Taako’s drawn back into his body by the blissful shock of Kravitz’s hand speeding up. With a few helpless thrusts he’s there at the edge, about to spill over and fall apart at the seams. Kravitz gets there first. He groans, grips Taako with his free hand to pull him closer. Taako follows soon after, when Kravitz wraps his hand fully around him with perfect, dragging pressure. Useless syllables and broken bits of Kravitz’s name tumble past his lips. 

There’s a long moment where they’re both dazed and clinging. Taako is sure his heart’s about to beat through his ribs. He finally finds the motivation to utter a quick prestidigitation spell to clean up the mess. Kravitz’s shoulders shake with laughter.

“What?” He’s still hazy, drunk on the feeling of Kravitz’s hand through his hair. 

“A  _ really _ handy spell,” he says, voice rough. “Er, cantrip.”

Taako grins. “Oh, that. Just wait.”

“Mm,” is all Kravitz seems to be able to muster. He closes his eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

Outside, the rain has stopped, and the sound from the television comes back into focus. They’ve switched places, so now Kravitz is the little spoon. Taako props up on his elbow so he can have a clear view of the screen. A dopey-looking guy stands before a counter with ingredients spread out in neat little bowls. He talks through the recipe, and cracks a few dumb jokes that makes Taako cringe. If Taako were on TV, no one would watch anything else. Especially not this dipshit.

Kravitz shifts and settles more firmly back against Taako’s chest. His eyes are closed, and that edge of disquiet in his brow has melted away. It makes Taako’s heart flip to think he’s the one who gave him that peace. He moves a dread away from falling over his face and kisses his temple. Only Lup has ever felt as important to him as this.

⁂

Kravitz stands beside Taako before the cottage door. The  _ Fated Meadow Bed and Breakfast _ sign overhead creaks as it sways in a summer breeze. Cicadas fill the air with a rush of syncopated, nostalgic buzzing. It’s a beautiful afternoon here, albeit  _ hot _ . In Taako’s time it’s winter, so Kravitz is dressed appropriately.

“I’m ready,” Kravitz says, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple. 

“Okay. Here we go.” Taako takes a deep breath. He looks nervous, and he rarely _ looks _ nervous. Taako has a few tells—leg bouncing, donning additional layers of clothes among them. Things that only someone very close to him would notice. But it’s written all over his face. He’s not sure this will work, and he’s afraid they’ll be separated again like before. Taako lifts his wand and hesitates.

Kravitz squeezes Taako’s other hand. “Remember, we have the mirrors. I truly think it will work, though.” 

Taako scoffs. “ _ Of course _ it’ll work.”

Indignation, another tell. Kravitz gives a sideways smile. “Of course.”

“Just watch.” Taako brushes his thumb along Kravitz’s wrist, eyes closing. He whispers an incantation, and ribbons of light unspool from his wand. They swirl and combine and coat the door in a pearlescent sheen. It brightens, then fades to a soft shimmer. A hybrid chronomancy-transmutation spell, something Taako apparently had to go through a great deal of trouble to achieve.  _ I’ll tell you about it on the other side _ , he’d said earlier. Kravitz has all the faith in the world in him.

Taako opens his eyes. “So far so good.”

Kravitz reaches forward, transfixed by the beauty and power of it. The air is filled with spell static that practically vibrates over his skin. 

Taako pulls him back. “Wait. We go through together.”

“Right. Sorry, it’s… incredible.” The static in the air softens.

“If it worked.” Taako stuffs his wand back into a pouch on his belt. 

Kravitz feels a pull between them, feels his heart as if it were a spell itself, projecting outward, drawn to Taako like gravity. It worked. Had to’ve. Everything at home is in order. He put in a leave of absence request. Made sure that the families he’d been assisting were in good hands. 

He looks at Taako, sees the way his jaw is set in determination. If they both go through and it fails, they’ll be in their respective times as usual. If it works, they’ll end up on the same side. Taako’s side. Then the next time they’ll come to the meadow together, and go through to Kravitz’s side. They’ll take turns like that. Their chance at some semblance of a normal life together. It sounds idealistic, too good to be true. 

“I love you too, by the way,” Taako says, staring at the portal.

Kravitz smiles. They both step through the portal, hand-in-hand.

⁂

The loom in the temple weaves a colorful pattern of twenty-four rows. In the late afternoon, the rows abruptly end. Two gold threads of light spiral away together, and disappear as one.

_ The end. _

  
  



End file.
